


If Not For You

by remiges



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-05 02:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15160991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remiges/pseuds/remiges
Summary: Danny's over by the grill, wearing the novelty apron Ryanne had gotten Claude for his birthday when they'd first started dating. It's gingham, with a dog in sunglasses on the front dreaming of burgers. Danny looks unfairly attractive in it, with his forearms and his tan and his hair flopping forward from the heat of the day. He flips a burger, and Coots, who's standing closest, winces.





	If Not For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeswayappianway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeswayappianway/gifts).



> Hi, yeswayappianway! Here's a treat, I hope you enjoy. <3
> 
> Title from [If Not For You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeINvWcU4lM) by Bob Dylan.

Grocery shopping at ten in the morning on a Saturday isn't Claude's idea of a good time, but needs must. He doesn't know if they have enough styrofoam plates, so he grabs a pack just to be on the safe side and some Solo cups while he's in the aisle. He could always send a rookie to get more if they run out, but he'd rather be prepared.

The good thing about the end of training camp get-together is that it's a potluck, so everything isn't on him. The bad thing is that, as host, Claude is in charge of the burgers. Which are right next to a giant, free-standing display of treats. There are Twizzlers and M&M's and gummy worms and tub after tub of cotton candy, but Claude has self-control. He can resist the temptation.

The burgers go in the cart, along with some brats in case TK forgets what he's supposed to be bringing again this year, and Claude is on his way. He's almost at the front of the store before he has to turn around for Ryanne's yogurt, and he's in line when he remembers the half-and-half Danny had asked him to pick up the other day.

Adult, he reminds himself as he doubles back past the display yet again. He's a goddamn adult, he can walk past a bunch of candy without buying any.

 

* * *

 

"I bought M&M's for later," Claude tells Danny, dumping the groceries on the island. "Can you put them somewhere safe?"

"So the guests don't eat them or Ryanne doesn't?" Danny asks, but he's already opening up the cabinet where they keep the juicer Ryanne's mother had gotten them for Christmas. "You should have bought more than one bag, in that case."

"I know you helped eat that candy," Claude says, pointing a finger as he passes the M&M's over. Last Halloween the bowl for the trick-or-treaters had dwindled mysteriously fast, leaving Claude to go on an emergency Walmart run. He's still not over the fact that Ryanne and Danny hadn't saved any for him.

Charlie pads into the kitchen before they can fall back into the familiar grooves of their dispute, and Claude stoops to pet him. He should have gotten more dog treats, he thinks as Charlie lies down under one of the bar stools, but he'll be back at the store soon enough.

"Hey, can you grab me a mug?" he asks, and Danny passes him one Ryanne had gotten from work. Claude pours in the remaining coffee from the carafe sitting on the counter and sticks the mug in the microwave, ignoring the face Danny makes.

"Just make a new pot," he says as Claude hits the start button. "That one's been sitting out since this morning."

"Takes too long," Claude says, watching his mug spin behind the mesh of the microwave door. "I need it now."

Danny looks skeptical. "Fine, but don't think you're kissing me with old-coffee breath." He crosses his arms over his chest and doesn't lower them even when Claude takes a step closer.

"Sure?" Claude asks, running his fingers up Danny's side, firm enough not to tickle. "I could make it worth your while."

"You've got fifty seconds," Danny tells him, nodding at the display on the microwave. "You'd better work fast," and, well. Claude's always up for a challenge.

It had felt strange the first time he'd kissed Danny, no matter that he'd had Ryanne's permission and everyone knew the score. It wasn't that Claude had never kissed another man before, just that it was so much... pressure. If they worked that meant everything was changing, and if they didn't work then Claude had disturbed the equilibrium of his and Ryanne's relationship for nothing. And yes, Ryanne had been the one to bring it up, but Claude had still felt guilty back then, like he shouldn't be greedy and want two people when he was already engaged to Ryanne.

It hadn't made for a great first kiss. Or a second one. But the third time, the third...

Claude walks Danny back into the island and swallows the muffled noise he makes when he bumps into it. His lips are slightly chapped, but his hand is warm and perfect when it settles against Claude's cheek.

"Wait," Danny says around the kiss, and Claude pulls back. "Sorry." He looks sheepish as he pushes a bag out from where it must have been digging into his back. "Okay, I'm good."

"Yeah?" Claude teases. "We could move somewhere else if your bones are hurting, old man."

Danny pinches him in retaliation, but Claude just slides a hand under his shirt and sets to work distracting him.

 

* * *

 

His coffee isn't piping hot anymore by the time Claude untangles himself, but it's warm enough. Some of the cold groceries are condensing on the counter, but they'll be okay. Danny's on it.

"You could help, you know," Danny tells him while he's putting the lettuce in the hydrator.

"But the view's good from here," Claude says with a grin. Still, he grabs a bag and opens up the pantry, revealing a familiar patchwork of color on the inside of the door. It's covered in sticky notes that Claude has left for Ryanne, and later Danny, that the two of them have stuck there for safekeeping. Maybe it's sappy, but Claude likes the tradition, likes that everyone who comes over and grabs a snack gets to see them.

"You were already gone by the time I got up," Danny says, putting away the pinto beans Claude hands him. "I was going to make you breakfast but you ruined my surprise."

Claude snorts and makes a mental note to put creamed corn back on the list since he'd apparently grabbed a can of the regular kind by mistake. "You? Breakfast? Was this going to be the cereal and milk kind, or the kind where you set off the fire alarm?"

"I'm not that bad," Danny says mildly. "I managed to keep the boys alive, didn't I?"

Claude doesn't point out that he'd had a hand in that for a while, or that Danny could reliably cook three meals—maybe four, if you were being generous—when Claude had lived with them. Danny has enough dirt on him from that same time period that he doesn't want to open himself up to criticism about his skill with the washing machine

It doesn't take long to put away the rest of the groceries, and then Danny dries off a couple of plates from the dishwasher while Claude gets the bread and condiments out. They make a sort of assembly line to put everything together, a habit left over from when Claude used to help Danny with the boys' lunches.

"Here," Claude says, pushing a sandwich over. "Extra pickles, just for you."

Danny smiles at him and steals a bite of Claude's, like an asshole, even though they're basically the same.

They're almost done with lunch when Claude hears the front door open, then the scrabble of nails on wood as Charlie abandons them for the door and Harvey comes running after him.

"Shows where we rank," Claude says, finishing his crust and draining the last of his coffee. Danny makes a face, but Claude ignores it. He's seen Danny eat weirder shit in his time, including lemon-lime gatorade floats with vanilla ice cream.

Ryanne comes in, sheened in sweat, and heads straight for the refrigerator.

"Hey," she says, pulling a bottle of powerade out. It won't be that cold since Claude just bought it, but Ryanne drinks about a third of it in one go so it must not be that bad.

"How was your run?" Danny asks. "See Mr. Poe while you were out there?"

Ryanne laughs. "I did hear this weird heartbeat, do you think that's bad? No, but it was good. It sprinkled a little but it was really nice after that, not too hot."

The two of them have been weirdly obsessed with Edgar Allan Poe—or rather, his ghost—since they went on a walking tour of haunted Philadelphia while Claude was out of town. He doesn't really get it, but apparently the Poe re-enactment guy had been something else. Even though they aren't dating each other, Danny and Ryanne have become pretty close friends.

Claude unwraps a protein bar and hands it to Ryanne, and she smiles her thanks. They finish their respective food while Ryanne tells them about the dogs she'd seen on her run. When they fall into companionable silence, she stretches her arms above her head and cracks her spine.

"Alright, I'm going to go take a shower," she says. "Want to come with?"

"Sure." Claude rinses off his plate and dumps it in the sink. He needs to get one in before this evening, and he's always liked showering with company.

"Don't kiss him until he brushes his teeth," Danny calls after them as they're leaving the kitchen. "He was in here drinking the old coffee from this morning."

Ryanne makes a face. "Just make a new pot!" she says, and Claude feels so inordinately fond of the two of them that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

When they get to the bathroom Ryanne immediately starts stripping, but Claude is distracted from the show by the strap-on sitting on the edge of the sink in all of its neon-pink glory.

"You know, hockey players aren't the best at following directions," he tells her, nodding at it. "What were you going to do if one of them wandered in here?"

"I don't know, I guess that'd be up to you," she tells him over her shoulder as she steps out of her shorts. "You could tell them I use it on Danny, if you don't want to fess up."

Now there's an image. Claude shakes it off before he can get too distracted, though, and starts undoing his belt. "Yeah, but pink's not really Danny's color."

"I was going to put it away after my shower," Ryanne promises as he tosses his clothes in the hamper. "I just hadn't gotten around to cleaning it yet."

"I know, I was mostly kidding," he tells her. "Let me wash your back, make it up to you?"

"Well," she says, smiling slightly as she holds out a hand. "You don't have to twist my arm."

They're not quite old-married enough that Claude wants to pass up the opportunity for shower sex, but there's been a strict moratorium since the time Claude tried to give Danny a blowjob and Danny slipped on the tile and ended up cracking his head on the wall. Claude likes to say it's because his blowjobs are just that good, but it hadn't been funny when he was freezing a bag of cold peas to Danny's hair while Ryanne drove them to the ER.

They make it through showering without incident, or at least without anyone getting a concussion. Once out, they dry off and Ryanne adjusts her part in the mirror, then passes him the comb. Claude starts from the bottom of her hair and begins working his way up, making sure he has a good grip above where he's combing out so he doesn't pull.

"Nervous?" she asks softly when he's almost done.

"I think I bought enough burgers that there's not going to be a riot or something," Claude answers, catching her gaze in the mirror before dropping his eyes back to his hands. "And nothing could be worse than that party Raff threw."

Ryanne hums, and Claude knows that _she_ knows he's avoiding the question, but he doesn't really want to go through this again. He doesn't get worked up about the first get-together of the season, or if he does, it's just the normal amount. And anyway, he thinks they could turn their attention to better things.

Claude kisses her shoulder, tastes clean skin and water. Meets her eyes in the mirror.

"Think we can be loud enough for Danny to hear?" he asks, and Ryanne smiles slowly, pressing her ass back against him. They're still wearing towels, but Claude doesn't think they will be for long.

"I don't know, can I use the strap-on?" Claude presses his face into her wet hair and groans around the scent of cherry blossoms.

"Tonight," he promises her. "With Danny."

They don't always have sex together, the three of them, but it's not like it's a rarity. At first Claude hadn't wanted to make them uncomfortable by pushing for something he didn't need. Ryanne and Danny weren't dating each other, just him, and sex had seemed like an ask too far. They'd set him to rights, though. They always do.

Ryanne's towel is soft and damp under Claude's fingers, and she lets it drop when he tugs.

"I'm going to have to take another shower, aren't I?" she asks, running her fingers through his hair as he gets on his knees with the towel as a cushion. He'll have to throw it in the hamper, but that's okay. They've got lots of towels.

"Maybe," Claude tells her, gliding his hands up the backs of her calves. He likes eating her out, likes the taste of her without a barrier between them and the way she sounds when she gets going and how her thighs tremble when she's close. Still, he thinks he might like her even better just like this—a flush rising on her cheeks, eyes bright, looking for trouble.

"I'll let you share my hot water if you're good," she says, and Claude feels his arousal jump.

"I'm always good," he tells her, running two fingers through the wetness between her lips. She shifts then, grips the edge of the sink behind her and hooks a leg over his shoulders, opening herself up to him.

"Prove it," she says, and when she pulls him in, he goes.

 

* * *

 

Claude had been planning on taking a nap after his second shower of the day, but there are the chairs to get set up outside, and the grill to clean off, and the yard games to unearth from the garage. They have a company that comes and mows for them every week, so that's not something Claude has to worry about, but he remembers from living with Danny and the boys how Danny would mow the yard shirtless. They hadn't been anything back then, but Claude had appreciated the view.

By the time the doorbell finally rings Claude is drying off his hands in the bathroom, so he lets Danny or Ryanne get it. It must be one of the rookies, because the rest of the guys would knock or just head around to the back.

"This is for you," Claude hears as he comes around the corner. He's just in time to see Hunny pressing a bottle of wine into Ryanne's hands. He's got another one under his arm, and two bags of chips he's balancing on top. Claude's not sure how he got the doorbell, actually.

"Hey, Hunny," he says, and Hunny nods a greeting, juggling the chips. "You know, some of the other guys are bringing the alcohol, you didn't have to do double duty."

"No, it's not—" he starts, and Ryanne rescues the chips before they can end up on the floor. Hunny's ears turn a deep red. "It's not for the party," he finishes, keeping ahold of the bottle when Claude moves to take it from him. "It's—" he breaks off when Danny walks in, already mid-sentence.

"—seen my metal spatula?" Then, "Oh, hi. I'm Danny." He holds out a hand, and Hunny shakes it.

"Will Huntington. This is for you." He holds the bottle of wine out, and Danny shoots a startled look at Claude before taking it.

"Oh!" He looks at the label, then at Ryanne and her bottle for a split second before turning his attention back to Hunny. "I love red wine, thank you. Are you a big wine drinker? Sorry, here, let me show you where to put your stuff."

Danny and Hunny disappear down the hall, leaving Ryanne and Claude in the foyer.

"That was..." Ryanne trails off, coming to stand next to him.

"Thoughtful," Claude fills in. He has to clear his throat before he can get the word out.

"Yeah." She kisses his cheek, and Claude presses his nose to her hair and breathes in the scent of her before she steps back. "I should go put this away and help Danny look for the spatula."

"It's probably in the crock," Claude tells her. "Or the dishwasher. Actually, it might be in the garage, I used a spatula to clean out part of the deck last week."

"Well," Ryanne says after a pause. "I'm sure we'll think of something," and then the doorbell rings again and Claude goes to answer it.

 

* * *

 

"Alright, G?" Jake says, leading him away from the grill. He's the third person to do that, though much less subtle than the last two had been, and Claude finally clues in.

"Are you... keeping me from grilling?" he asks.

"Nobody wants charcoal burgers," Jake tells him, low and conspiratorial. "Just let your husband man the grill, make him feel useful."

They both look over at Danny, who's wearing the novelty apron Ryanne had gotten Claude for his birthday when they'd first started dating. It's gingham, with a dog in sunglasses on the front dreaming of burgers. Danny looks unfairly attractive in it, with his forearms and his tan and his hair flopping forward from the heat of the day. He flips a burger, and Coots, who's standing closest to the grill, winces.

"We have enough food to make up for it, if it's all shit," Claude finally decides. "And he's not actually my husband, you know."

"Yeah," Jake tells him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "And not yet, G. Not yet. Just, remember who was best man at my wedding when you're choosing grooms."

In the end, Danny doesn't mangle the burgers too badly, though the brats are a little charred. There's enough food to go around, and someone's girlfriend made cookies, and the potato salad is the kind that Ryanne likes with apples, and it's a pretty great meal if Claude says so himself.

After they've mostly finished eating, he wanders around their backyard, drifting through the various groups and making sure the rookies haven't trashed anything. One of the terracotta flower pots that had been sitting on the deck is on the ground, but the pot is still intact and the plant itself is only a little squished. Claude counts it as a success.

He's just managed to disentangle himself from a game of ladder toss when he spots Hunny hovering by the side of the deck. He looks like he's not sure if he wants to catch Claude's attention or not, so Claude walks over and makes it easy for him.

"Finish taking the guys to town in cornhole?" Claude asks, leaning against the railing next to him. Hunny smiles at that, this bright grin that highlights the freckles on his nose and his missing front tooth.

"Not too badly," Hunny says. "I'm not stupid," and Claude will give him that. He finishes the last of his beer as he stands there, looking over his team—his _team_ , and this year they're going to be something really special—while he waits for Hunny to spit out whatever's eating at him.

"Was that okay? The wine?" Hunny finally asks, not looking at Claude. He runs a finger down the side of his can of beer, leaving a stripe free of condensation. "I wanted to bring something for both of them, I just didn't know what. Nolan helped."

One the one hand, Claude is pretty sure Nolan was just taking the shit suggesting that Hunny bring two bottles of wine, but on the other hand the gesture itself was surprisingly sweet. Totally chirpable, but sweet.

"It was great," Claude says truthfully, giving in to the temptation to ruffle the kid's hair. Hunny dodges him with a scowl, but Claude just smiles and takes another pull of his beer. "You did good, Hunny."

Hunny's ears go red again and he ducks his head, and that's interesting. Claude's had a few rookies have crushes, but it's been a while. He doesn't want to say anything and make it a big deal since usually these things straighten themselves out as the season gets underway, but he will if he has to.

Danny appears before Claude figures out where he should lead the conversation next. "Talking about me?" Danny asks, pressing his cold beer against the back of Claude's neck before handing it over when Claude swats at him.

"Yes, honey," Claude says dryly. "Always." He accepts the kiss that Danny presses to his lips, but he doesn't think it's about ownership or showing Hunny that Claude is already taken. He's not sure Danny's even noticed Hunny's crush yet, actually. It's more, Danny can. In the middle of their potluck, Danny can kiss him on the deck in front of all of Claude's teammates while Ryanne wolf-whistles, and Claude gets to kiss back.

"Some of the guys want to play volleyball, you in?" Danny asks when he pulls away.

"Yeah," Claude tells him. "Just lead the way."

Hunny bows out, but a bunch of the other guys are down. They'll have to take turns rotating players, but that's okay.

When they're forming teams, Simmer says, "Captain gets to pick first," just to be a shit.

Claude makes a show of looking over the whole group and tapping a finger to his chin. "I think I'll have to go with... Ryanne," he says, pointing. She high-fives him, and Danny gives a long-suffering sigh and shrugs.

"Sorry," Claude says, grinning. "You're in no way as good as her," and Danny finally gives up and laughs.

Claude used to worry about things like that, about what would happen if Danny and Ryanne thought he was choosing between them, but he doesn't anymore. They've had their talks and their fights and their compromises, like any good relationship, and they're comfortable enough with each other that he can joke about this. Maybe it hadn't always been like that, but it is now and that's all that matters.

One of the rookies is picking for the other team, and he looks like he doesn't knows who he should choose.

Ghost slings an arm around his shoulder. "You know, you can pick Danny," he says in a voice that's just loud enough to carry. "It's better if they're on different sides, anyway. Their celebrations are over the top."

That's... not quite the exaggeration Claude wants it to be. He still has the scar on his chin from when Ryanne and Danny had tried to pick him up like that lift in _Dirty Dancing_ and dropped him. It's a little scar, but still.

Danny, obviously, gets picked for the other side.

By the time Claude bows out and lets Provy take his place, everything's starting to quiet down. He finds Lyons sitting by the cooler, not looking entirely sober. He'll have to call him an uber, he thinks as he hands over a water, but that's okay.

"It's going to be a good year, I can feel it," Lyons says, looking up at him, and Claude nods.

"Yeah," he agrees, clapping him on the shoulder. "I think it really will."

He makes the rounds again, eats a couple of warm grapes and refills the cooler, and then he takes a seat on the bench swing. He's close enough that he can join in the conversation with the guys sitting in adirondacks if he wants, but far enough away that he doesn't feel pressured to contribute.

Charlie scrambles up beside him, and Claude pets his wiry curls while TK knocks two of Nolan's beanbags off the cornhole board and starts crowing about it before Nolan throws an ice cube at him. Danny is talking with some of the other guys' wives, and Ryanne has someone's baseball cap on backwards, firing up the grill for one last round, and Claude feels a familiar emotion rise inside of him, almost too large for his chest.

The first time he'd felt it, they'd still been new to this, barely worn. He'd taken the two of them to Simmer's wedding with him—crossed out the "plus one" and put "plus two" instead, then quietly freaked out for the next couple of days.

On the day of, he'd thought he would tie Danny's tie. Not because Danny couldn't, as evidenced by hundreds of game days, but because it felt... romantic. Coupley, in a way they were still working toward. And maybe that was a little silly, but Claude wanted it anyway—the intimacy of their bodies as Claude helped Danny put himself together to go out with them in public. The three of them. Together.

The problem was, Claude hadn't considered the logistics of tying a tie on someone else. Doing it backwards should have been easy, but it was like trying to explain muscle memory. Back when he and Ryanne had first started dating, she'd asked how to set the cruise control in Claude's car, and Claude couldn't tell her. He'd had to mime it in the passenger's seat, and even then he'd forgotten a step.

This was like that, only worse.

He couldn't get the knot to fit together, even though he could tie a tie in his sleep. He'd just had the terrible thought that maybe he'd have to put it on _himself_ and then slip it over Danny's head, which wasn't what he was going for, and he was getting flustered, and maybe this was stupid, maybe he should just—

"Here," Ryanne said, gently pushing him out of the way. "Do up my zipper, will you?" She'd put her hands to Danny's throat—Danny, who was still patiently standing there, who hadn't even teased Claude about messing up—and by the time Claude had the eyelet of her dress hooked Danny was smoothing down his tie.

"Thanks," Danny said when he looked up, smiling slightly at Ryanne, and that was it. That was the moment Claude realized he was in over his head.

Simmer's wedding was beautiful—stained glass and vaulted ceilings and lily of the valley centerpieces—but all Claude could focus on was Ryanne on his right and Danny on his left. He'd held their hands, out there in the open for everyone to see, and they'd held on right back.

After the reception was over, Danny carried Ryanne's heels as they cut across the grass to the parking lot, the sky a steady wash of pink, jasmine on the breeze. And Claude wasn't one for praying, but he'd sent a prayer to whoever might be watching over them—or not a prayer, really, more of a hope—that said thank you. And please, please let them stay like this forever.

Claude doesn't know if he'll get forever. He hadn't known he would have two wonderful people care about him and want to spend their lives with him, if he's honest. But even if they don't have forever, he'll always have this: the uncomplicated happiness of a fall potluck, the sunset throwing long shadows, and the faint sounds of Ryanne and Danny fucking with the rookies.

"We each get our days," he can hear Ryanne saying. "We used to alternate, but it was just too hard. Sometimes you want to have dinner _and_ breakfast with somebody, you know? Not just have to pick one."

Claude doesn't have to see it to know that Danny is nodding at her side, serious enough if you aren't looking for the twinkle in his eye.

"We have a shared calendar now," Danny tells whoever they're messing with this time. "Google works best, since you can set it up to repeat, and we each figure out what blocks of time work best, and—" His voice fades out as the wind changes and the guys playing cornhole get a little more raucous.

Claude can only imagine what tales he's spinning. He wants to go play along, but the swing is comfortable and Charlie is warm and heavy in his lap, and he thinks he'll let them have their fun for a while longer.

 

* * *

 

Claude wakes to a hand on his shoulder. Charlie's gone, as is his team, and dusk is falling. Ryanne is crouched next to him, a smudge of glitter highlighted on her cheek by the light coming from the kitchen window.

"Hey," Claude croaks, shifting to sit up. "I guess I fell down on hosting duty, huh?" His neck is going to kill him tomorrow, but right now everything seems distant and slightly unreal.

"Better to not set expectations too high," Ryanne says, sitting down next to him. The swing sways, and Claude pulls his feet up to give her more room.

"You're probably right. Hi," he says, softer, and Ryanne smiles at him and twines their fingers together when he holds out his hand.

"Hi yourself," she says, and they sway in companionable silence for a while, Ryanne occasionally using her foot to push off when the swing slows down.

Claude's nodding off again by the time the back door opens and Danny comes out. He must have turned the kitchen light off, because Claude can see the first stars now, just visible through the cloud cover.

When Danny comes over, Claude scoots toward Ryanne to give him space to sit down. Claude always ends up in the middle somehow—he'd ceded the left side of the bed to Danny when he'd started staying over—but he doesn't mind. It's not like it's a hardship, ending up sandwiched between his two favorite people.

"I think he's out again," Danny says quietly. Claude can feel the rumble of his voice against his head, which has somehow ended up on Danny's chest. He doesn't feel any inclination to move it, though, or even open his eyes.

"He's going to be up at, like, five. We should have made him take a nap," Ryanne says.

"He probably wouldn't have slept, though. I think he gets more worked up about this than he lets on." Danny knows him better than almost anyone, but Claude sometimes wishes he wasn't so perceptive.

"Yeah." Claude feels the faint brush of someone running a hand over his hair, but he doesn't know whose. Opening his eyes feels like too much effort. "Still, I bet we could wear him out if we set our minds to it."

Danny hums thoughtfully, which Claude has been conditioned to associate with good things. "Probably. Thinking of anything in particular?"

Claude misses the transition, but when he tunes back in they're talking about redecorating the guest bedroom, and something about coral. He finally drifts off to the low murmur of their voices, interspersed by the creaking of the swing and the occasional breath of laughter.


End file.
